The workings of Sera
by The Flesh of JRB
Summary: Sarah, a member of a Raven support crew, must cope with the life she's chosen. OC, brief DOM. Reviews are most welcome. Related to Seek The Light.


The Workings of Sera

The Workings of Sera

When she was sick it could be difficult to tell left from right—up from down. She wasn't a pilot. Not yet anyway. She believed in future opportunities. Being in a King Raven crew was so much like scooting along the side of one of the buildings they flew past. Despite all of the charred concrete and brick around you, there wasn't enough of it to keep you from falling. And you would fall. The engineers knew that the choppers would crash or get shot down. That was why there were several informative placards with recommendations on what to do when you crashed. The most important part was not to panic. _One hundred and fifty mile-an-hour crash landing amongst rusty tombs of humanity's former glory. Hundreds of locusts on the ground ready to kill you. Shifty-eyed Stranded waiting to loot your corpse. And then the rats…_

_Don't panic. Yeah right._

Sometimes they were fortunate to have Gears there. The main part of the crew's job was to get Gears where they needed to go. APCs were in short supply and frequently the area was littered with too much refuse to drive through anyway.

Before she'd been assigned to her King Raven, Two-Nine, AKA the Smokey Fox, Sarah had been on the clean detail. This meant that she and several others would set down to clean up and prepare Landing Zones and Fire Bases. They would do this armed of course, and if they were lucky a Gear or two would be there to supervise security. A basic Landing Zone (LZ) was just a place for a Raven to put down and pick up or drop off personnel. An actual Fire Base would have a sandbag or junk bunker with protective walls. The best ones were made by the COG Engineers Brigade. Most were just thrown together by the Raven support crews. The frantic coming and going of these runs represented the formative years of Sarah's COG experience. She learned and she survived. It was a success.

The King Raven rocked around her. Turbulence most likely. Though sometimes the Grubs actually had anti-aircraft mortars. The worst things were the Nemacysts. There was no fire from the 30mm cannons though. It was just the wind.

"Coming up on site Zero-Nine," the pilot announced, "You will have two hours to deploy transmitters and J-Sevens. Good bye, good luck, and see you in Hell."

Sarah stretched out her legs in her custom Gear-like armor. Not only was it different for not being official Gear Squad armor, but it was cut down to allow her movement and to fit her frame, which was much smaller than the average Gear's. She wore no helmet or mask, but instead had her hair in tight braids that were then clipped to the rest of her hair to prevent any strands from hanging down.

The others had similar armor, but also avoided the masks. There was just something so sordid about the glowing eyes of the masks. Sarah wasn't the only woman who even went out on these runs, but it was rare. Some women were pilots or worked in Command/Control, but many remained on the plateau as designated mothers. The COG needed citizens if there was to be a future. It wasn't a bad life, she assumed. A woman could be a "general" mother where she would be assigned a "partner" or she could be a wife to a man as long as he was approved by the Civil Authority.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, but once she'd been lucky. She met a man named Bill. He'd been part of the Youth Guard and then joined the Gears with a commission. He had a good rank, and was an approved "husband". Yet, despite all of these government approved aspects, she really did love him.

The King Raven began its descent. Sarah checked the status of her Lancer B, a smaller more manageable version of the standard Gear Assault Rifle. This was where her life had taken her. It wasn't exactly the fairest outcome for her, but she was still alive. She knew nothing of where Bill was, but that was mostly her fault.

Bill was one of those men who were loyal to a fault. Nothing she did would make him harm her. It was a stark contrast to the accusations that many people made about the Gears. It wasn't a direct criticism of course. Given the situation that the citizenry was in, it would be unwise to express hatred or disapproval for the people who protected you. That was a sure fire way of being exiled or thrown in prison until you joined the war effort as part of a plea bargain. It was a silent belief. "_Of course I love and appreciate the_ _efforts of our brave Gears_," they would say, "_They fight and die so that we can live. But, if you told me that a Gear beat or murdered his wife (if he had one) that wouldn't surprise me. Violence is all they're good for."_

That wasn't true. Sarah could never imagine Bill doing such a thing. And he never did, despite the fact that on a few occasions she longed for him to do it.

As the Raven lowered, Sarah stood up and moved to the door. Outside she could see the quiet ruins of St. Jerome, once a capital city of the early COG alliance. Four others in her group followed suit. This mission wasn't on par with many of the Gear missions. St. Jerome had seen a lot of fighting early on. Famed gear squad Team Howard spent untold days clearing the city and dropping charges down into Locust tunnels. With few civilian targets, and only minimal COG exposure, the Locust Horde moved on to more profitable locales.

There were several debates as to the greater motivations of the Horde. They had little definitive evidence for any of them. It made no difference for the COG populace. For them the war broke down into the most basic elements: us and them. The good guys and the bad guys. Sarah had first-hand experience in that way of living.

For years she stayed at home while Bill would go out on operations. There was always the fear. The uncertainty. Sometimes she'd wanted him dead to cease the terrible feeling of not knowing. It was intolerable. To wonder if he would die and then maybe she'd be assigned to some man that she didn't love.

Sarah leapt down from the cabin of the King Raven. When her boots hit the ground she bent her knees and squatted partially to absorb the impact. It took good muscle control, for if it was done improperly it could pull a groin muscle. Sarah had come a long way from just being a Gear's wife. She embraced the life. The hardship and the danger. It felt good to do so.

The others followed her out of the chopper, after which it rose and returned to base. It wasn't going to be a long operation. Each member of the group carried a satchel and backpack full of equipment. Following behind them was a Jack-bot towing as much as its little floating body could. This was the purpose of their assignment. St. Jerome wasn't considered an active fire zone. Control wanted to maintain surveillance of the area to see if they could install a more permanent base there. In preparation for this, COG intensified their operations in other sectors. Of particular interest was keeping the Locusts away from Jacinto and in lesser numbers near important places like Lutefisk, where a substantial portion of supplies came from. It anything, Sarah and her group were like a tiny gear in the greater COG effort, but that was still better than sitting at home waiting.

Craig, the leader of the ground crew took point, "Alright, let's go. We got a job to do."

XXX

Two hours later, Sarah and her team were waiting for the Raven to come back. By all accounts their mission had been a success. They installed various Geobots and seismographs, thermal detectors, motion sensors, audio/visual transmitters, and four remote J-Seven gun-bots for security. These would have to be activated by Control once they left. All of it was in the vicinity of the LZ. The plan was to eventually spread this treatment throughout St. Jerome. A city that they could monitor and control would be their city once more.

Craig was staring off at the horizon where their King Raven should've been coming from. It wasn't uncommon for Ravens to be late. Anything could happen to impede their progress. As the support crew they all knew that. Yet all of that logic could only assuage so much frustration and fear. Logic was something that people developed as they learned. Fear was much more base, and the truer form of humanity.

Sarah remained vigilant. Every sound was investigated. Her Lancer B constantly following the movement of her eyes. All of the training she received was there. Some of that had come from Bill, but there had been her official training, and time she spent under the wings of Gears she met. One in particular was a man who was constantly looking for his wife. She knew him only for a month—perhaps two. Time could skip around while out on the long operational patrols. Eventually Delta Squad moved on, and Dominic with them.

She's been closer to him than anyone except for Bill. There was a moment when she'd desperately wanted it to go to a higher level. She believed Bill was dead or had moved on. Why should she not seek comfort? However, Santiago hadn't been willing. He was dedicated to his lost wife. Sarah was left feeling like she betrayed some greater sense of herself. That she'd betrayed Bill.

For months Sarah spoke to a Bill that was not there. "I'm sorry," she told him. "You can't imagine what this has been like. Are you safe? Are you happy?"

"I love you, Sarah." That was all her image of Bill would say.

Sarah longed for the Locust to show up. She would fight. She would kill. A part of her would be that much closer to her lost husband.

Craig got on the radio, "Control, this is Smokey Fox support team. Our Raven is late. Do you have any info?"

"Negative. Your Raven should be there. We'll put your location out to the nearest Raven. Maintain your position. Over."

"Yeah right," muttered Glenn, a technician whose insubordination had landed him in the team.

Craig gestured violently for Glenn to shut up. "Copy that, Control. We'll do so until further notice, Smokey Fox out." Once the radio was off, the noise erupted: "How many times do I have to say this? What is the rule?"

"No noise while you're on the Comm.," Craig droned, "But look at the situation we're in. They left us here!"

"We're fine for now. This place is off the prime combat specs."

"There is no place safe on Sera," Glenn said, "Just ask a Stranded how fun it was to be left out here."

"We're not unarmed civilians," said Sarah, "We can make it for awhile."

Glenn got right up in her face, "Who asked you?"

"I'm sorry," she said with a demure, down-caste expression, "I thought you'd want reassurance from someone with more balls than you."

"Go ahead and poke the bear, you stupid bitch."

Sarah looked right at Glenn, and naturally the Lancer B followed her gaze. She held it for only the slightest of moments, and then moved it away when she heard something move. Everyone followed her gaze. The drama between them no longer mattered.

The sound had come from one of the wrecked buildings to the right of them. It was an old civil government building leftover from before the COG military had stepped in to provide the leadership. Those were times long gone by and so was the structure. It had faired better than some of the others. Sarah was fond of these more substantial relics of the past. They were a last little glimpse of better times that she couldn't remember.

Now it was possibly home to some Locust monstrosity. Sarah had seen a number of them though her job took her elsewhere. Her focus was mainly Nemacysts, which was a variety of locust that they could do the least about. The guns onboard a Raven could only go so fast, and were only as good as their gunner. It wasn't going to be a Nemacyst in building though. A Grub maybe: the foundation of the Locust Horde.

Her gun was ready. Loaded. Held tight against her shoulder to stabilize it. The gun had a habit of rising as it fired, so she preferred controlled bursts. The Locust's own Hammerburst rifle was a favorite of Sarah's. It was bulky, but there was always plenty of ammo.

_Come on out. Let me see you._

During moments like this there was no way she couldn't think about Bill. He was out there somewhere. Perhaps some lucky Grub had already chain sawed into his ribcage and let all the wet and gooey contents spray out onto Bill's boots. She used to clean Bill's armor when he left it out. He didn't like it when she did. Bill didn't like to associate her with the dark and violent world where he did his job. That was his life. It was hers now.

The ground shook. Concrete and gravel gave up their ghosts and sank into the ground somewhere out of sight.

"Grub hole!"

XXX

She breathed slowly. The air was thick with smoke and stone dust. Even dirt from the Grub hole. Sarah was hiding behind a slab of marble that might have fallen as far back as the Pendulum Wars. It was a stone corpse. A victim left upended. It protected her now. Grub bullets flattened against it. Their lead couldn't compete with its fallen grandeur.

Her ears were numb from so much firing. She could picture the Grubs everywhere. They were monsters of men. Like men in so many degrees of their form, but twisted in such a way to let you know that they were part of something darker. Sarah held the gun over the slab and fired without aiming. It was foolish. She knew better from her training. It was a waste of ammunition, yet this little thing gave her comfort.

She didn't know where everyone else was. Well…that wasn't true. Craig was dead. A hail of bullets had torn him off of his feet. Their leader held on for a time. For a brief period there was hope. One of them could've done the most beneficent of things, and helped Craig, but another burst came, and he was left on the ground like a long piece of blood-basted meat.

This was combat. And crouching there, Sarah didn't want it. Her stomach was shaking within her. She wasn't a Gear. Why was she even out here? She wanted to run, but there was no where to go with the Grub bullets, so she fought.

XXX

It continued for some time. The constant rattle of fire. Cries of anguish. Explosions and the raining of dust and debris from grenades. Their group wasn't as heavily armed as the typical Gear squad. Her ammunition count was getting low. She considered using the snub pistol on her lower back, but left it there. Her Lancer B was hot with use. She needed to change her surroundings. Sarah lobbed a grenade over the marble slab as far as she could.

When the grenade went off she used the dust to cover her run into an alley. She was leaving the safety of the others, but so be it. As she scampered away a grenade landed right on her former hiding spot. Sarah didn't turn to look back, but she imagined the ancient marble fracturing from the pressure. Collapsing. Becoming so much like the other rubble.

The alley was partially collapsed itself. One of the buildings had broken from its foundation, and a brick wall angled into the space threatening to cut her in half. Sarah didn't care, nor did she stop and look to see if anything or anyone followed her. There was so much drive to keep going.

Shots rang out behind her. She fell forward. She knew she was dead, but rolled on her shoulders. When she was facing the other way, Sarah squeezed the trigger on her Lancer B, and sent forth a burst that ripped into the Grub's thighs and crotch. He hunched over from what would surely be a fatal loss of blood. Sarah realized that she hadn't been shot, and got back up.

Her face was covered in sweat and grime. She started running again. The alley fed into a street that crossed the main thoroughfare where the government building had been. Rather than continue away from her old position, Sarah got back on the road, and headed back to where the others would be. She'd been wrong. There wasn't going to be any escape on her own. Without the others it would be even more hopeless.

She would flank the Locusts with what little she had left. Sarah checked the chainsaw bayonet in her Lancer B. It still worked.

The fear didn't go away, but it was no longer what pumped her legs. There was something else. She didn't know what it was. There was no time to ask.

XXX

The firing had not ceased. That was proof enough that at least someone was still alive. Sarah picked her way slowly through the stony rubble. She found a stray bit of ammo and a grenade along the way. It was amazing how things like that could just be found lying around. She wondered what else she could find.

There were pools of dirty water amongst the broken concrete and plaster. It could've been rain, though some Grub urine wouldn't surprise her. The hue of the water was pale with what remained of the sunlight. Remnants of once dark stormy rain clouds were huddling together once more. Perhaps for one last assault on the surface of Sera before they dissipated fully. At any other time, Sarah would've longed for the sight of rain—the last great cleanser they had left. Yet even it couldn't wash away the stain of the last several years.

In the distance she caught sight of a grub. He was crouched atop a fallen pillar, and putting fire on one of her comrades that she couldn't see. Sarah saw him suddenly gesture with his hand. He was calling for more locusts to join him. She moved to a destroyed car no more than thirty meters away. When he stopped his gesturing with a curt nod to his comrades, Sarah acted. Carefully aiming, she fired a burst from her Lancer B. The gun rattled as it delivered its offering of lead into the grub's back. Sarah then lobbed a grenade just off to the grub's side. The explosion and resulting shower of meat told her that she was successful.

Her instincts told her to wait then. Charging forward after such a victorious moment felt so natural. And with the rush of adrenaline it was hard not to. But she didn't move. She regained her cover, and waited.

A locust peeked out with a Lancer. The burst from her own gun ripped open and emptied the grub's skull like a crab shell filled with red cottage cheese. She vomited.

After reloading, Sarah took her time in moving from cover to cover. The firing was dying down. No doubt the grubs were moving to deal with her. _Surprise flank attack_, she thought. Her time to get to her remaining team members would be short. The grubs would swarm, and there would be so many of them. She had to get to the others. They needed her.

She trudged over the rough ground. It was a large pile of debris she could barely see over. One false step and she could picture herself wrenching her knee out of its socket. If that happened she was dead. Sarah remained focused. She ignored the discomfort, and continued on. Her armor protected her from most of the scrapes, but the climb was harder for every pound of it.

One piece of marble slipped, and Sarah fell forward. Her face scraped against a rock. The sting and raw feeling of her flesh rocked her. She almost cried out. She saw Bill then. He was staring at her. His brown eyes looked as though they were floating in some space other than his head. He didn't say a word.

Sarah regained her hold on the pile of rubble. She moved forward. The burning of her muscles eased. There was a cooling coming down from parts she didn't know existed. _You're not going to look down on me, Bill. I don't have time for you to haunt me. They need my help._

Bill smiled, and then his being was blown away in a maelstrom of her mind's dust and torments. She was alone again, yet whole. She pressed on. The sporadic fire was getting closer. There was less of it now. She wouldn't miss it.

There was a scream. The firing stopped.

Sarah went tearing over the rocks. Her mind envisioned various possible scenarios. Not many of them good. There were no voices in her thoughts. Only images and drives. She embraced them.

Ahead of her was a flat outcrop of stone like a plateau. Sarah made her way to it. She peaked over—her Lancer B ready. _Give me a target._

There was nothing. Smoke hung in the air. Splatters of blood covered much of the wreckage in stone. A car that had been in crossfire was utterly savaged.

Sarah found the way down to be surprisingly easy. She kept her gun ready. There could be no lapse in personal safety. It was a rule taught to her by Bill and by Dom. You had to take care of your people, but you couldn't stop taking care of yourself. If you did you would get yourself killed in due time. She understood it. And kept it. She wanted to save her team.

Sarah heard a groan. She searched around, and in a pile of old trash and rusted metal she found Glenn. His body armor had been ripped apart. There were the typical dents and holes from weapon's fire, but there was something else: gouges and claw marks. Proof of the most savage ravaging. She heard it then: an animal call. It was something between the bleating of goat and the croak of a dying frog.

Sarah spun around. Her finger already depressing the button for the chainsaw bayonet. Her blade met the top of the head of the wretch that was there. The saw in her Lancer B wasn't as powerful as the typical Lancer's. For a moment it struggled as it dug into the small but thick skull. She held the beast back as its clawed hands tried desperately to rip her apart. Then there was the crunch as the skull gave way, and the saw hurried in a downward arc through the locust's small body.

Sarah released the button. The wretch lay bisected on the ground. She checked on Glenn. He was still alive. She asked him where he was. It was good to see how coherent a wounded casualty was. It could reveal a great deal about blood loss and head trauma.

"You left us, you bitch. I'll kill you," he said in a series of groans.

"Nice to see you too. The others?"

He shook his head.

The radio blared, "Smokey Fox support team, do you copy?"

"Smokey fox here," she said, "Tell me you're inbound."

"This is Two-Four coming in. Just happened to be passing through. Puff smoke, over."

Sarah lit and tossed a red-tinged smoke grenade. "Smoke rising, Two-Four. Come and get us." She hunched down next to Glenn, and kept her rifle ready. The rule was still in force.

She heard the King Raven in the distance. On this day two of them would make it home. It was no where near perfect. Perfect was something she hadn't seen in years, and she didn't care for it. The red smoke rose like a snake stretching forth to the sky. It was hers.


End file.
